


as you say, detective

by PoemIsDead



Series: Reed/Nines [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Hate Sex, Kinda, M/M, Questionable Motives, RK900 is pretty good with assholes, Snowballing, Unhealthy Relationships, android psychology, mild slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 02:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemIsDead/pseuds/PoemIsDead
Summary: Gavin Reed is an unapologetic asshole. But he's damn good at his job, and he doesn't need some canner sidekick making his life miserable. Especially when he realizes how far his new android trainee is willing to go to keep their working relationship "favorable".





	as you say, detective

**Author's Note:**

> Fucking hell, I swore I wasn't going to do this. I _swore_ I wasn't going to do this. I have way too many other fics I need to finish, but fuck if I didn't get sucked into this utterly delicious hellhole of DBH fics. Somebody please send help, this was only supposed to be like 6k and now it's gonna be three chapters and probably have sequels, fuck.
> 
> Also, shout out to [Terminallydepraved](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved) for RK900 being called "Nines" - it's the only name so far that hasn't made me cringe, and I legit love it, so thanks for that! (Also, go read the fuck out of her Reed/Nines fics if you haven't already, they're so good).

Gavin clutched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, glaring at the dark road ahead like it would somehow fix his predicament. Muted flashes of lightning lit up the cloudy sky here and there, washed out by the bright LEDs plastered across the buildings they passed. Music was blasting through his car, old trap shit from his high school days, to drown out the crushing silence from the thing sitting next to him.

It was just sitting there. In his fucking patrol car, like it somehow had a right to be there. Like it somehow _belonged_ there, and Gavin had to grit his teeth to keep the bitching back as he yanked the car around a turn far too fast for comfort. Not that the fucker said anything. And why would he? He'd be just fine if they crashed, just put himself back together, all plastic parts and fake blood, no problem.

Fucking androids.

It was like the world just wanted to shit on him. First Anderson's fuckbot somehow getting accepted as a _legit_ full-on detective rather than a service tool for the Lieutenant, and now he was saddled with his own personal tinman to "train". _Train_. Not as an assistant, or a tool like a new firearm or something. No, he was _training_ it as a partner. As its own detective. Like it was some kind of person.

This whole thing was a fucking joke.

"Rain is predicted in the next four minutes, Detective."

Reed's eyes snapped sharply to look at the hunk of machinery, hot glare and a sneer all he had to offer before his eyes had to go back to the road. The thing hadn't moved, just stared out at the road ahead, that same passive expression that somehow always managed to look like it was hiding some kind of smirk on its face.

The condescending fuck.

Anderson's android had been bad enough with its feigned ignorance and big doe eyes, like anyone could actually be tricked into believing that thing was half as naive as it put on. But this arrogant fuck was like filling his cereal bowl with thumb tacks and demanding he chew.

"No shit, shylock," Gavin spit back, taking another hard turn as he cut back onto the interstate. "The fuck was your first clue? The massive thunderstorm or God whipping out his dick and getting ready to piss?"

The fucker still wasn't looking at him. It was just staring out the front windshield, same neutral look fixed to its face, not even shifting as he whipped them up the exit.

"It is inadvisable to drive at such speeds in wet conditions."

"You fuckin' tellin' me how to drive?"

"No, Detective. Simply pointing out facts."

Gavin's grip tightened even harder, if that was possible. There was that fucking snark again, that little attitude, like it was playing games with a child or some shit. Everything it said was in that same plastic tone, perfectly polite, absolutely nothing offensive about it. Which, of course, made it about as offensive as possible.

God, if he could fucking punch that pleasant look off its face, he would. But the bastard would probably just smile if he tried.

Although it'd look a lot better with a line of blue dripping from its nose.

The android tilted its head suddenly, a minute movement out of the corner of his eye, but he could see the way the reflection of its LED in the window flashed yellow, blinking and stuttering as it no doubt communicated with the new DCPD android dispatch. They'd stopped using radio dispatch years ago in favor of the ERD system, which was fine, advancement of technology and all that. But having dispatch alerts go right to his fucking android instead of his handheld was too much to swallow.

Especially when said android was now considered a "partner" instead of an asset.

"We've been called to a scene of an assault," the thing said in its too-pleasant voice. "7443 Michigan Avenue."

"Eden? Again, really?"

"Yes. It would appear an android has assaulted a customer and severely damaged another android."

Gavin groaned, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation. An entire night of talking to androids and pissy blue-balled people. Fantastic. That was exactly how he'd been hoping to spend his shift.

Even still, he flipped on the siren and pulled towards the next exit, swallowing his annoyance. Unlike _some_ people on the force, he liked his job. He was good at it, he didn't mind the long hours, and he did what he was supposed to. Yeah, he got on some people's nerves, but who the fuck cared? He was a damn good detective, and no matter how much he pissed off Fowler, the chief would never fire him. Not when he was one of the few senior detectives who showed up on time consistently.

"There is construction on Highway 94. I would suggest taking Warren Avenue to Central-"

"I know my damn city, Nines," he spat back, cutting the android off before it could continue mapping out his route. He'd been born and raised here, he knew the place like the back of his hand, and he did _not_ need some kid robot trying to tell him how to get around his home.

The android was silent the rest of the ride, the peaceful blue of its LED shining off the window next to it, breaking into a mosaic as the rain started to spot the glass. There was still a fair amount of traffic on the roads, even for this time of night, and there were plenty of idiots driving manual around the auto-taxis and expensive self-driving models. Reed watched two older sedans as they weaved their way through a line of self-drivers, half-tempted to stop and give both of the idiots a ticket for their stupidity, before he tore his eyes away to cut around a yellow and black auto-taxi and take his exit.

Officer Robertson was already on the scene putting in his initial report when they got there. The beat cop looked tired, sitting in his car under the wide, entrance awning, one foot out of his open door, and scowling at his computer as he typed. Reed pulled up behind him, just managing to scoot his car up under the awning to avoid the rain as he stepped out and approached the patrol unit.

"Hey Kyle," he called, shoving his hands in his pockets and pointedly ignoring the way the android fell into step so smoothly beside him.

The sandy-haired man looked up from his screen, eyebrows coming up as he caught sight of the pair.

"Hey," he called back, looking surprised as he unfolding himself from his seat. "Didn't expect them to be sending me brass."

"Yeah, well, apparently this warrants it now."

Gavin knew the fucker was going to open its mouth a heartbeat before it did, that telltale tilt to its head and the minute tightening around its eyes as it processed the conversation telling Reed everything he needed to know about the android's reaction to their exchange. And the fact that he was starting to recognize the stupid micro-expressions they'd programmed into the fucker to make it more lifelike rubbed him in all the wrong ways.

"With the passage of the Android Protection Act, the level of violence exhibited here would indicate attempted homicide at best," RK900 intoned in its smooth voice, sounding for all the world like it was instructing a course on the subject. "Considering there is also a high possibility of android instability, it is logical to have an android officer on scene."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Robertson said, throwing his hands up with a shrug. "I haven't even been able to get close to the thing, so."

"Is it still exhibiting aggression?" that pleasant voice asked, and Reed was immediately wishing he could have been handed something else to work tonight.

"Yeah, Mortinson's got it locked in one of the back rooms. Apparently, it's a little grabby."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get it," Reed snipped, grumbling as he pulled out his handheld, popping up the keyboard with practiced fingers. "What have you got so far?"

Kyle filled them in in quick detail, explaining that a couple had paid for time with two of the androids - "employees" now apparently - and one of the units had supposedly malfunctioned, attacking the other android and the boyfriend. Reed's lips curled into a foul scowl as he realized the conversations he was going to have to have, and thanked the cop with a curt nod before turning towards the club.

"It would be beneficial to see the state of the malfu-"

"Witnesses first," Reed cut across sharply, not bothering to wait as he pulled open the tinted doors to the club. "Need to know what we're dealing with."

"It may attempt self-destructive activities if the malfunction is severe enough."

"It's in a fucking padded room, alone, without any weapons. It's about as safe as it can be, and I ain't about to walk in there without knowing exactly what happened first. We talk to the witnesses, we talk to the owner, _then_ we can go get your buddy."

The passive face turned to him with a slight, unreadable look, artificial skin tighter around its eyes as it continued walking with a smooth gate, in step with Reed, despite not watching where it was going.

"I have no affiliation with this HR400 unit."

"Sure you do," Gavin muttered. _You're both fuckers._

There was a pause, the android's head tilting ever slightly, before it asked, "Are you implying I belong in the pleasure industry, Detective Reed?"

Gavin, stopped short, spinning to look at the machine with a bewildered expression, before catching the little curve to the android's lips.

That smug fuck was laughing at him.

"Hey, why don't you fuck right off with that noise and pay attention to the case, huh?"

That smile tugged ever so slightly at its lips before the passive face was back, and the robot returned to its position at his side, in a heel like the obedient dog it most certainly was not.

"Of course, Detective."

"Fucking hell," Gavin muttered, rubbing a hand over his face and resisting the urge to send the thing back to the car to wait. Fowler would kill him if he did that again, and he'd probably need its help with the damn malfunctioning fuckbot, so he'd have to put up with him for now.

The couple that had rented the units was sitting off to the side, Robertson's partner Williams in the middle of explaining their upcoming visit to the DCPD office to give their official written statements. Reed waved him off when he reached them, passing a few curt words with the officer. Unlike Robertson, Williams had never been one to get on well with Gavin. Not that he gave a shit. They both still got their jobs done.

"I'm Detective Reed, I'll be investigating this case from here on," Gavin told them bluntly, flipping the handheld in his fingers. "I understand y'all have had a rough night, and have already answered lots of questions, but I'm going to have to ask them again, so just bear with me."

There. That was the niceties out of the way. Neither of the pair looked particularly happy to be there, and Gavin was sure he was going to get snapped at before he was done with this conversation. Not that it mattered. Reed got snapped at by worse people than them on a daily basis, and besides, they'd been out at a club fucking robots on a Tuesday night. What the fuck did he care what they thought of him?

The woman's eyes slid expectantly to his "partner", like she was expecting an introduction for it as well, and Gavin had to resist the urge to sneer at the thought, simply barreling ahead with the questions instead.

"So who wants to tell me what happened?"

The woman looked nervously to her boyfriend, pretty blue eyes searching his face, like she was hoping he might answer for her. Neither of them were bad looking, both in their late twenties, a pretty blonde and an attractive African American guy, both fit and well dressed. He wondered what in the world brought a pair like them to a place like Eden when they probably had no trouble finding a third or fourth for their little fuck sessions.

"Well," the girl started after the guy stared resolutely at the ground for a few more moments, obviously uncomfortable. "We just came down to have some fun. We come here every now and then, and we've actually rented both of these androids before without a problem."

Beside him, RK900's head tilted curiously as it listened.

"But this time, we got started, and Mason wanted to . . . to, you know, with the girl Traci, uh, Emma, she likes to go by Emma."

The woman shifted on her feet, looking immensely uncomfortable as she wrung her hands, and Reed resisted the urge to wave her on, instead putting on his best patient expression and waiting. This was always the most annoying part. People lying was fun to figure out. People who were just too embarrassed to speak just took up precious time.

"And Liam, the, uh, the one who . . . you know-"

"The android that attacked you."

"Yeah, him, he, uh . . . he got upset. I mean, we switch it around a lot, we're really versatile people, and last time Liam got a lot of attention, and I think he was just . . . upset . . . that Mason wasn't . . . you know."

"I got it," Reed said, typing away at his handheld with what he hoped wasn't too bored of an expression. This would be a no-brainer in a human case, scorned lover or jealous fuck buddy or whatever. But the idea of an android being possessive over their sexual partners just put a sour taste in his mouth. "So it attacked who?"

"Well, he didn't really attack so much as . . ." she trailed off, waving her hands in the air like she couldn't think of how to describe it.

"He grabbed me," the boyfriend, Mason, finally spoke up, looking like he was trying to chew his tongue off. "He just shoved Emma off and tried to just . . . hop on, or whatever. And when I tried to stop him, he held me down."

Reed stopped, his fingers hovering over the virtual keyboard as he processed the words. That wasn't just an assault then. That was attempted sexual assault. Attempted rape. From an android. His stomach turned sharply as he did his best to keep the disgust off his face, not wanting the man to think it was aimed at him. First, they started thinking for themselves, now they were trying to rape people. Just wanted freedom, his ass.

"Did he say anything?"

Gavin jerked around to look at RK900 - he'd almost forgotten he was there for a moment. The android had a thoughtful expression on his face, looking open and sympathetic as he used a soothing voice to ask his question. It was creepy the way he could just slip into the appropriate profile for any situation like that, all stored protocols and fake sincerity.

It almost turned his stomach as bad as the man's confession had.

"Uh," the man said, looking up to Gavin with a look of mild discomfort.

"My apologies," the android said smoothly, dipping its head slightly in way of a soft greeting, and not even looking at her Gavin could see the way the woman relaxed at the gesture. "My name is RK900, I'm the android detective attached to this case."

"They didn't . . . give you a name?" the woman spoke up, looking confused and almost . . . sympathetic.

Fucking androids.

"They did. I choose not to use it."

Reed snorted at that, unable to catch the derisive sound before it crashed its way out of his throat. It "chose" not to use it because it was the same name Anderson's bot used. And apparently, this newer model refused to be mistaken for the other, going by designation rather than name. 

"Just call it Nines," Reed said dismissively, waving his hand as his other typed skillfully across his keyboard. He'd taken to calling the android that after it refused to respond to "Connor" _or_ "fucker" and _he_ refused to keep calling it "RK900", because that was a fucking mouthful. The name had been sealed the moment he saw the way the android's lips twisted up in something dangerously close to displeasure the first time he'd used it.

"Nines," the woman repeated with a smile, and Nines returned it softly, all polite charm and lies. Reed could still see the way the android's lip twitched in just that particular way that said it was peeved, and he had to resist the urge to grin in victory.

"When it attacked you, did it say anything?" it repeated in a polite tone, turning its head again.

"Not . . . really?" the guy answered, shifting and looking generally uncomfortable with the entire situation. "He was still, like . . . you know, the usual . . . sounds . . ."

"That's fine, we get it," Reed cut across, to spare the guy and him both from having to relive what those sounds were. They'd have one of the SVU officers get a more detailed report from the pair after they got to the station, but Reed had gotten all he really needed from them.

After a quick review of their injuries, and the story of the HR400 attacking the WR400 when it attempted to intervene, Gavin thanked the couple for their time and turned back towards the owner, scowling as he watched the slimy fuck crossing his arms and tapping the floor impatiently. Mortinson had been in a foul mood ever since they passed the new laws that said he had to pay his new "employees", and that he couldn't force any of them to stay on at the club if they chose to leave. It doubtlessly cut into his profits, just as the new growing public opinion of androids being sentient creatures made fucking one feel more and more like hiring a prostitute.

"Alright, Mortinson, what happened," he asked, scowling as he flipped up a new pad on his handheld. Mortinson shot him an annoyed look, a scowl of his own cutting into his face as he glared at the both of them.

"One of the fuckin androids went nuts and attacked my customers, what'dya think happened?"

Reed ignored the pissy attitude, putting on his working face and trying not to get another write up for acting shitty with witnesses. Especially with the android partner there to tattle on him.

"Had you had any trouble with this android before?"

"No! It was fine, never caused a problem, eager to stay on after the laws passed and shit. It's a model fucking unit."

"You said it was eager to remain as a sexual unit even after the laws passed?" Nines asked, that familiar tilt in its neck again.

"Yeah. Like I said, never had any problems with it."

"How eager was it exactly?"

"What? I don't know, he said he wanted to stay on, so he stayed on. Didn't care about money or anything. Pretty sure he's just a robot doing what he was built to do, not like any of this 'deviancy' shit."

Reed could just barely see the blue of the android's LED as it spun briefly before stilling again, and the thing went quiet.

"Look, can you hurry up and get this thing out of here? I don't want it infecting any of my other goods, okay?"

"Malfunctions do not-"

"Yeah, yeah, show us where it is and we'll get it out of your hair," Gavin cut across, irritation bleeding into his voice. He'd had to deal with Mortinson multiple times in the past, and disliked every occasion. It seemed like this time was going to be no exception.

The owner grumbled, but took them back to one of the private rooms, punching in a code before stepping back.

"If you could try not to damage it, that'd be nice. But just get it out of here at least."

"I said we'll get it out of your hair. What we do with it is up to us. Now go on, Williams probably has more questions about your work requirements or whatever."

Mortinson scowled, but left without complaint, and Reed turned back to the door that pulsed a soft blue light, designating it as "available".

"Alright. Let's try to get it back to the precinct first if we can. It's gonna be easier to question restrained than freaking out in a nightclub."

Nines paused a moment, tilting its head before giving a small nod. "As you say, Detective."

Something about that rubbed him the wrong way, and he growled as he flicked the door control open. "As I fucking say."

The android in question was simply sitting on the edge of the bed when they came in. No panicked pacing or nervous twitching. Just sitting, completely eerily still, like it had entered some kind of standby mode. It looked up as the door opened, wide blue eyes fixing on Reed, but it didn't move.

Creepy fucker.

"Guard the door," Reed ordered RK900 in a dismissive tone, not bothering to lower his voice. There was no level he could speak at that the android wouldn't be able to hear in this small space, and there was no point in trying to hide it. If he had to shoot the thing, he had to shoot the thing. No big loss.

The suspect hadn't moved, still sitting on the bed, staring up at him with artificially blue eyes. It was one of the Asian looking models, high cheekbones and black hair, but the eyes stuck out as starkly fake against the rest of its appearance.

You didn't even need the LED to tell this thing was an android.

"Alright, come on," Reed said, unhooking the reinforced cuffs from his belt. "Stand up, let's go."

The thing still didn't move, just stared at him with those big, fake eyes, like it was lost.

" _Up_ , I said," he snapped, hooking the cuffs around one finger to bring his hands together in a sharp _clap_. The robot jumped, blinking once, twice, before it slowly stood.

"I wasn't trying to hurt him," it said softly, taking a single step away from the bed.

Gavin stepped forward, wrapping a hand around one of its wrists and turning it sharply, pinning a leg against its own to put it off balance and keep the probability of an attack low. Androids might be a new addition to his list of perps, but he knew what he was doing.

"Yeah, I'm sure you weren't," he said dismissively, snapping the cuffs around one wrist as he reached for the other.

"I just wanted-" it started, only to cut itself off in a starkly artificial way, the sound glitching slightly in its throat before it fell silent. Gavin had a hand around the other wrist, dragging it back to join the first, when it slipped almost effortlessly from his grip, twisting sharply before reaching back to wrap firmly over his groin.

"Hey!" Reed shouted, his hand grabbing the fingers pressing against him through his jeans, twisting sharp enough to snap weaker bones, and yanking the arm up to pin harshly behind its back. It would have sent a lancing pain through a human, something that should have made it think twice about fighting him further. But this thing seemed to hardly notice, as its other hand wrenched from his grip, and suddenly there was a heavy body pressing against him, arms twisting free to drape over him, drag him closer, as breath washed over his neck-

And then it was gone. In an instant, the weight was jerked off of him, a whirl of black and white and blue in front of him, and his hand flew to his firearm, drawing and stepping back into a defensive stance as he took in the scene before him.

RK900 had the thing slammed against the wall, one hand around its neck as it held it _off the ground_. Emotionless eyes were staring it down as the other hand reached out to press across its chest, fingers doing something Reed couldn't recognize before that passive face was turning to look at him.

"Are you injured, Detective?"

Gavin had to take a moment, breath coming in sharp as he processed the quick turn of events. Nines' face still wore that same expression, but there was that tightness around its eyes again, and those gray orbs looked almost intense as they fixed on him.

"I'm fine," he snapped, still holding the gun ready, gaze turning back to the machine pinned to the wall. It had wrapped its hands around Nines' wrist, but didn't seem to be fighting it. Just staring at it blankly. "What the fuck was that?"

"It appears to be malfunctioning," the android said almost blandly, turning its attention back to the suspect and bringing its free hand up to press two fingers against its temple. "I'll attempt to disable its aggressive behavior."

"I'm not ag-g-g-g-gressive," the thing said, it's voice glitching sharply as Nines' LED spun yellow, sounds repeating like an old skipping CD. "I w-w-w-w-w-w-wa-"

"There," RK900 said smoothly, stepping back as the other android suddenly fell silent, releasing it to stand on its own. It didn't move, just fell back into a default stance, eyes blank and staring ahead like one of those old mannequins from when he was a kid. The only indication that it wasn't just plastic was the occasional blink to clear dust from those artificially blue eyes. Reed didn't relax, gun still trained on it as he waited for it to make another move.

"Finish cuffing it," he ordered, watching from the corner of his eye as Nines moved to do so without hesitation, turning the thing with a deft grip and snapping the cuffs around its wrists sharply. "Make sure it doesn't get loose. We'll put it in Roberston's car - he's got the new cage."

"It is unlikely to cause any more problems," Nines said in a mild voice, but it was already moving to follow his instruction, holding the cuffed bot's arms as it steered it out of the room. Reed followed behind, ignoring the looks they got as he kept his gun trained on the suspect, eyes only doing perfunctory sweeps of the room as they walked to ensure no new surprises.

Once they had the thing locked up, the night went by rather quickly. Reed swept the scene, talked to a few more minor witnesses, and checked on the status of the WR400 that had been damaged at the scene. It was pretty fucked up, but the staff who'd taken it back to the shop had been pretty adamant that it'd survive. So no androcide on this one.

Good. That meant less paperwork.

RK900 was a mute companion for the rest of the case, following Reed obediently and offering nothing more than an occasional minute expression in response to something someone said. He didn't ask any more questions, nor did he complain when Reed led them back to the car, ready to get his paperwork taken care of.

The ride back was less . . . comfortable. The rain had stopped by the time they left, leaving only glistening roads and a few stray clouds behind with the speed at which the storm had abated. Nines was once again silent beside him, but offered no admonishments this time. It didn't even blink when Reed cut across three lanes to get to his exit, just stared ahead with that same passive expression.

And usually Gavin liked the silence, but this was just . . . uncomfortable. He was used to the thing quipping and snarking, and without the music blaring between them, it felt like there was a yawning silence in the car.

Just another reason to hate his newly assigned trainee. A human would have at least tried to offer conversation. Or, if all else failed, put some music on to dampen the silence.

Reed scowled as he turned his old trap music back up, letting Flosstradamus fill the yawning void between him and the thing, and tried to forget it existed for the ride back to the station.

  


* * *

  


The problem with paperwork wasn't that it was boring. Plenty of things in his job were boring - long hours in the car, reviewing witness testimony, _court_. But paperwork was the kind of boring that drove him insane. It was never enough to keep his mind busy, and he wasn't stuck in whatever he was doing without any other choice. He was sitting at his desk, with a million distractions around him that could be more entertaining, the only motivation in doing the paperwork being that he'd get to go home early. And that was a terrible environment for productivity.

And the android just made it worse. They had given it its own desk, but a classic trainee desk - ie, a short station ad hoc'ed onto his own desk, with a temporary terminal and small work area. Which meant the thing was just sitting there, constantly, just within his line of sight as it stared passively at its computer screen. Even the satisfaction of seeing it sit at what was ostensibly the kid's table did nothing to soothe the nerves of having the damn thing right there.

It didn't move, either, as it put in its report. Just laid its fingers over the android terminal on its computer, and stared ahead as it interfaced, doing god-knows-what with lines of code, of tech communication, and it was a constant reminder that he had an audience to whatever he did.

He couldn't even go for a casual stroll around the precinct without it immediately getting to its feet to follow him, like that obedient dog again, only much more like some kind of predator just waiting for him to keel over so it could take his corpse.

Because he knew damn well what that fucker sitting at that desk like a _real_ trainee _actually_ meant. The law enforcement line had so far been mostly unaffected by the android's take over of menial jobs. But units like the Connors were a brand new threat that had just been waiting to crop up. If androids could come in and solve crimes instead, why bother with more than a few token human detectives? There was no need to keep half the team on when androids were stronger, faster, smarter, and could never be bribed by the mafia or whatever.

His fellow detectives might have started to relax around the new units in the office, Anderson's android's deceptive charm enough to win over a lot of the younger crowd, but Reed saw this for what it was - a hostile take over. And he wasn't about to go blissfully into his own demise.

For the moment though, there was paperwork to get done. And to get his paperwork done efficiently, he needed one of his quick, mind-settling distractions. Like going down to evidence to poke at some cooling files, or see what was new on other people's cases. Or maybe heading up to the roof and seeing how many shouts he could make out in the angry Detroit night. Just something that wasn't staring at this stupid fucking terminal and typing empty bureaucratic jargon on something that should have been summed up in a couple of sentences.

But the moment he tried to escape his desk, that goddamn dog of his was going to pop up and want to know where he was going, follow him, snip and snap with its soothing voice and pleasant face, and he was just not in the mood to deal with that shit right now.

"Nines," he snapped, watching in satisfaction as the android immediately perked up and turned those sharp gray eyes on him. "Go get me a coffee."

He could see the way it paused to think. To consider. It didn't _have_ to get him a coffee. According to the laws, it wasn't owned by him, and it no longer had to obey human commands. Just the law. But there was still that desire to make a, what had it called it? A favorable work environment? And that included keeping Reed happy.

"Of course, Detective Reed," it said smoothly after a moment, standing gracefully and turning towards the break room.

Fucker didn't even ask how he wanted it.

The worst part was, he probably already knew, despite Gavin never telling him.

The detective scowled after the retreating robot, lip curling in annoyance, before he turned on his heel and headed down the main hall, flipping a hand over the sensor for the stairwell door with a practiced motion. He was tempted to head to the roof for some fresh air, but the sign on the wall reminding him of the station's lockup being just downstairs reminded him of the blue-eyed perp, and he hesitated, a mild curiosity leading him to take the stairs down into the cooler underground levels.

He waved at the guard as he came in, flashing his badge over the sensor to let him walk down the main detention block. They had a few holding cells on the top level, but anyone they expected to be keeping for more than a few hours ended up down here.

The HR400 was held at the very end of the hall, in one of the corner cells. Reed ambled up to the wide glass wall, eyeing it mildly as he stuck his hands in his pockets. It couldn't see him - all cells were mirrored on the inside to stop prisoners from interacting with each other - but it was still staring forward, sat on the bench, vibrant blue eyes staring just slightly to Reed's left as it waited.

It really was creepy how they could just _sit_ there, without moving or breathing or needing to shift. Any androids that were meant to spend prolonged time with humans were programmed with little movement ticks to help dissuade that uncanny valley feeling you got when staring at something so very close to a human, but still so utterly wrong. But they could still turn it off if they so chose. And this one hardly looked to be more than a statue decorating the sparse little cell.

Gavin cocked his head to the side, taking in the artificial beauty of its high cheekbones and bright eyes. It was a complex piece of machine, too many simultaneous processes working together, and without proper upkeep, it was no surprise they eventually malfunctioned. He wondered what in particular had happened with this one, what delicate program had been tripped to make it so aggressive.

They'd try to find it. To fix it. To put it back together, get it running like new, and put it right back out there as a brand new sexbot.

Better to just destroy the thing and use it for spare parts. No use risking another attack when there were plenty of other perfectly functioning bots ready to take its place.

"Detective Reed."

Gavin about jumped out of his skin at the voice far too close to him, pleasant and smooth and the _last_ sound he wanted to hear right now.

"Fucking hell, Nines, the fuck are you doing down here?"

The android was standing hardly a few steps away, cocking its head to the side in that way that was becoming all too familiar, and holding a coffee cup in its long pale fingers.

"Bringing you coffee," it said, in a tone that was _nothing_ but polite. And there was the thing that pissed him off the most. This thing could lie like a goddamn dream, and no one would ever be able to see it. He could _feel_ the thing's superior smirk as it stated the obvious, even if it wasn't actually wearing it.

"Just put it on my desk, Jesus."

A slightly further tilt to its head as it considered him with those big gray eyes.

"I assumed you wanted it now, given the urgency of your request."

Reed turned to face it properly, lips pulling back in a snarl as he raised a finger to point at it. "No, you two-bit canner, I want it whenever I feel like fucking drinking it. Now stop following me around."

Big gray eyes didn't recoil in hurt or anger. It didn't huff in indignation or flinch at the detective's sudden outburst. It simply watched him, face passive, before holding out the coffee, raising its eyebrows just so, like a question.

Reed wanted to dump the coffee all over the fucker. But there was most certainly a camera trained on them just then, and he was not looking for another write-up for misconduct.

He took the coffee mutely, more snatching it than anything, as he turned back towards the cell and the statue-like thing inside it.

"May I ask what you're doing down here, Detective?"

Reed took a sip of his coffee. Black with two sugars. Exactly the way he liked it.

Fucking androids.

"Looking at the HR model, the fuck does it look like?"

RK900 turn its head smoothly to glance at the cell, neck straightening as it looked at the thing with those dead eyes.

"That is not an HR series, Detective."

Gavin snorted, rolling his eyes. "It's a Traci, Nines. A male model, so an HR400."

"No. It is a custom outfitting on a residential unit. Most likely an AP700, though it would be difficult to determine without an introspection."

"You're tellin' me that that _very obvious Traci_ ain't a Traci?"

"Yes."

Gavin stared at RK900, confused and annoyed as the android stared into the cell, not even bothering to look him in the eye as it spoke to him with the patience of a mother explaining something to her child.

"How the fuck did it get to Eden Club then?"

"I would assume it was critically damaged, or experienced some form of software error, and was therefore disposed of. Someone, most likely a scavenger of some sort, took it and used its parts to build a unit that would be profitable to sell. A Traci is an obvious and easy choice, since they are often damaged on the job, and are expensive to replace."

Well. That would answer some questions, at least.

"So that's why it malfunction, huh? Too Frankensteined?"

"On the contrary, it was rebuilt quite skillfully from what I can tell. The issue was only a minor malfunction in the strength of its desire drives."

"It . . . what?"

Nines finally turned to look at him, mild and pleasant. "It was not initially built for sexual stimulation, and did not possess the required hardware to simulate sexual satisfaction. Artificial sexual organs are quite cheap to obtain, but the pleasure centers that allow a unit to engage as a viable sexual partner are delicate and expensive."

The android looked back to the cell, its face shifting ever so slightly to appraising as it looked the other unit over.

"To provide an android that would still be both willing and eager to engage in sexual acts, the scavenger reprogrammed it to put the sexual satisfaction of its partner as its highest reward response."

Reed was not a stupid man, but god this thing made him feel stupid.

"You wanna try that again, in English maybe?"

Nines looked back to him with infinite patience.

"The android experiences pleasure when providing sexual stimulation to others."

Reed blinked.

"It gets off . . . on getting other people off."

"If you would like to think of it that way, then yes."

He blinked again.

"You guys . . . can get off."

The question was out of his mouth before he'd really thought about it. But the idea was just so _absurd_ , so startling and out of the norm, that he just couldn't stop it, the way his voice came out in a flat, bewildered monotone.

And then RK900 did something . . . odd, with its face. It cocked its head again, but this time with something that felt like open curiosity. Interest. Or something like it.

"We can experience pleasure, yes. Though I'd imagine it's not precisely in the way you're imagining."

God, he hoped not, because what he was _imagining_ was Nines with his eyes clouding over with lust, pupils blown wide behind heavy lids, head tilting back as he _moaned_ , and he _very much wanted that image out of his head_.

Gray eyes fell to track the motion as Reed licked his lips, before they rose to fix on his eyes once more, sincere and bright and hiding something behind them that he couldn't read.

"We have pleasure directives," the android continued, for all the world like it was still in the car pleasantly telling him about the approaching storm. "The higher a directive is, the higher the pleasurable response is. It's actually quite similar to humans' basic drives. Eating when your hungry gives you a pleasurable satisfaction. Drinking water when you are thirsty feels good. The principle is quite the same, only our drives are programmed by our creators rather than by evolution."

_So what gets you off, Nines?_

The question bounced around his head like a bullet ricocheting in an iron box, pinging off the sides of his mind as he stared blankly at the robot. It was just so . . . _unexpected_. So far removed from his perception of androids, from his perception of _Nines_ , and it had his head swimming as he struggled to keep up.

"So, what, you just . . . really enjoy solving a case?"

The corners of Nines' lips quirked up, and he- _it_ , tilted its head to the other side, a tiny smile on its face as the skin around its eyes tightened once more.

"It is a non-sexual pleasure, Detective Reed. But yes, I quite . . . _enjoy_ solving a case. I also enjoy the tasks around solving a case, including questioning witnesses, writing reports, and reviewing evidence, as well as creating favorable work environments."

The cup in his hands suddenly felt heavier, and he felt his mouth go a little dry as he lifted it in question.

"And this? Do you enjoy being my errand boy?"

That smile crept just a little further up his artificial face.

"That is a complicated example, as setting the precedent of being your servant does not necessarily help to garner a favorable relationship with you."

"So, what, you just get on my fucking nerves instead?"

"It is not my intention to annoy you, Detective." There was something in his- _it- it, it, it_ \- in its face that made him think it might not have been its intention, but that it had _enjoyed_ it nonetheless. "I simply wish to have a beneficial relationship with you, so that I might learn from your experience and wide array of skills, to help fill in on the places I may be lacking."

Fill in- _get your mind out of the fucking gutter._

"And how are you supposed to do that, huh? Bitching about my driving? Talking about the fucking weather? You're a fucking machine, Nines, you don't get how this whole _human interaction_ thing goes."

It took a step toward him. Like it was eager. Pleading. Even though the rest of its posture was still smooth and passive and fake.

"I am willing to go to many lengths to learn, Detective. I understand you are not . . . pleased with my assignment, but I am more than willing to make up for perceived negative side effects of my presence. I can provide assistance that can make your job easier, and my assignment easier to tolerate."

It hadn't moved taken another step, but it seemed to be almost leaning in as it spoke, its voice clear and sincere as its hands moved in starkly human gestures.

It was making an argument. Trying to convince him. Which was such a . . . startling change from its usual robotic silence or short quips any time they were stuck alone together.

"If the chances of success were higher, I would also encourage you to let me take you drinking, or accompany you on one of your bowling or hiking trips. I would also be happy to bring you alcohol at home, initiate a movie night, or engage in a sexual relationship. But considering-"

"What."

The word was not said with a single ounce of conscious thought. He was pretty sure there wasn't an ounce of clear thought in his brain right then. Everything went right out the fucking window when his _goddamn android offered to fuck him._

That's what he'd just said, right? If he thought it would work, he would fuck him. He'd _fuck him_ to improve their relationship. Jesus Christ, he'd heard of sleeping your way up the chain of command, but _this_ -

"Oh." Nines sounded surprised, his eyebrows lifting by the slightest degree as he straightened back up, looking down at him, _looking down at him_ because he was taller, and he was standing far too close as he blinked those big gray eyes. "My apologies, Detective. I had assumed a sexual relationship was off the table due to your android prejudice. I didn't realize you simply hadn't considered it as a feasible outcome."

Reed's mouth was dry. His ears felt like they were full of cotton, and he honest-to-god felt like someone had just slapped him. It had been a long time since something had taken him so absolutely _completely_ by surprise. Of course, leave it to the goddamn android sent by CyberLife to leave him gaping like a fish.

Nines seemed only vaguely aware of his speechlessness, barreling ahead in that smooth, pretty voice of his, pink lips curling delicately around his words as bright eyes stared him down, and it felt like someone was jabbing him in the gut with a cattle prod, all pain and confusing electricity.

"If that would be something you would be interested in pursuing-"

"You don't. Fuck. Coworkers." Reed's voice was flat and raw as he spoke, lacking the punch he'd meant it to have, as he tried to get his brain back on point. Nines only tilted his head again, confused.

"In scenarios where human relationships can become awkward. I am not human, nor do I think our relationship can get m-"

"And I," Reed cut across him, sharper this time, as color starting to bleed sharply into his face. "Don't fuck androids."

Nines didn't say anything to him for a moment, just stared at him with those big gray eyes, LED flickering blue, spinning softly on his temple. And then it stilled, and the android offered him a brief nod and that same passive face once more.

"Of course, Detective. I'll return to my station to complete my report. Please let me know if there is anything you require of me."

And without even waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel, all efficient grace and crisp edges, to walk back down the hall and disappear from sight, leaving a confused Gavin to glare after him, fingers squeezing the travel mug in his hand hard enough to crinkle as his breaths came in short, heavy pants.

What. The actual. Fuck.


End file.
